


If you strike the iron while its hot, it might burn you in return

by LokiBitch07



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A little Game of Throny, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, But a long way to go, Charles is a prisoner, Erik Has Feelings, Erik has his own kingdom, Happy Ending, Hostage Situations, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Abuse, Shaw is a dick, Unwanted marriage, eventually, two guys trying to make things work out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-17 21:39:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12374643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiBitch07/pseuds/LokiBitch07
Summary: Erik is the Lord of the Iron Isles.He pays reluctant fealty to the King of the Seven Lands, Sebastian Shaw.After many wars King Shaw forces Alpa Erik to marry one of his former enemies - the Omega Charles of the Xaviers, former Lord of the Horsemen. Erik does as he is told, if only to appease Shaw - for he is playing a long game. A game that in the end, he hopes, will see the tyrant king fall.But taking Charles home, from a kingdom where an Omega has no rights and their bond was set in the most unsatisfying way anyone can imagine, Erik finds that he is more intruiged with his new mate than he would have liked.This is their story.A story of wrongness and war, of supression and pain,  and how, in the end, one can overcome all odds with the help of friends.This is the story of Erik and Charles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right then... *rubs hands*
> 
> This story was long in the making.  
> Please don´t expect the kind of brutality / Non-con that I have written before - there will be mentions of it, but I will make sure to warn. 
> 
> Otherwise I am actually trying to write another love story.  
> This one is about healing.  
> For what happens when someone is damaged seemingly beyond repair and can still live a happy life, against all odds.
> 
> I have no beta reader, so please note that all mistakes are my own.  
> Kudos are virual smiles and kisses and comments are virtual hugs and both are much appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> x

Erik was was gritting his teeth, his head lowered against the rain that pelted in his face and streamed into his collar, plastering his clothes against his lean body. 

He could hear Logan cursing next to him, the noise almost drowned by the thunder, and he pulled his mouth into a humorless grin. His right-hand man might be able to heal any wound within minutes or even seconds, but even he was tired of the cold and the wet that had been plaguing them on their seemingly never-ending ride.

Erik cursed under his breath when a large piece of ice hit him painfully on the shoulder, and he pulled his thickly padded hood further over his face. By now he was fairly certain that one of his men must have pissed off the Weather Witches the last time they crossed their lands, for no matter how hard they rode, the clouds that poured rain and hail onto them had followed them for several days now. Erik felt like he could hear faint laughter among the storm that haunted them as they rode. 

Well. 

At least they had not been attacked outright.  
And this little bit of rain was something that his small group of alpha warriors should be able to _weather_ , as it were. 

Really, it was nothing more than an inconvenience. 

And Erik was thankful for that fact, for of any of the tribes that neighbored his lands bordered, the White Witches were the ones he was most respectful and weary off. 

Erik ran his hand over his face, flicking off cold wetness that covered him again within seconds. 

At this point in time he would have done almost anything for a dry towel and a warm bed, and he was sure that his three companions fared the same. And as much as he hated Genosha and all it stood for, with its slavery and oppression of omegas, he was looking forward to its dry air and warm sun, even if burned much brighter and hotter than it ever did in the North. 

Erik leaned in closer over his steed, urging it to go even faster. 

If his calculations were correct, they should arrive at the outskirts of the lands of Genosha in the course of the following day. And from there they would reach Shaw´s capital within a week, maybe even less.

So there was little left to do apart of pushing on, driving their steeds sharply until they foamed from their mouth and salty lather collected on their wet flanks as hooves drummed on the slick floor. 

They had been riding for the better part of a month. 

And hopefully, in about a weeks time he would find out why Shaw had called for him, and what the urgency of setting a deadline for Erik´s arrival was all about. 

 

x

 

The last time Erik had stood at King Shaw side was a bit more than two years ago.

Shaw had called for the Iron Isles small but strong army to join him in his latest campaign, to overthrow the Horsemen, a fierce people that resided in the vast sea of grass in the east. 

It had been one of many crusades that the King of the South had led since he had climbed the throne of his kingdom by the sea. And since then Shaw had toppled the century old truce that had been upheld, attacking and overpowering first small lordships and open domains, then defeating small kingdoms that bordered his own and integrating them into his vast lands, like pearls on a string.

The war against the Horsemen had been a quick and dirty one, for the lands were relatively small, yellow meadows between rolling hills, inhabited by a modest, quiet people. The Horse People were a wandering folk, specializing in husbandry in some of the finest steeds of all the kingdoms, but apart from that there were little riches to be had .

And yet Shaw had gone in, either enslaving or killing every person they saw on the way, burning whole villages to the ground, looting and raping.

What had Shaw called it?

Ah yes. 

Making amends for gender betrayal. 

And all because the young Xavier who had taken the throne was an omega. 

Erik had stood by Shaw´s side, bound by an old pact that his grandfather had once made with the King of the South, many decades ago. It was something that had forced him to watch with an impassioned face as Shaw had his men search out the omegas of the land, binding and covering them in linens, so that they could be brought to the capital to be sold to alphas that would take care of them the way that the Gods had intended.  
The alphas were mostly killed.  
The betas were either enslaved or left to service their new masters from Genosha who had moved there as soon as the land was inhabitable once more. 

Erik himself had never understood the issues that the Southern lands had with alpha /omega gender roles. 

Yes, of course alphas were stronger in body if not necessarily in mind, and omegas were fertile and able to carry cubs, their bodies a wonder for the creation of life. 

And yes, it was true that when an omega went into heat that their smells and behavior could be distracting to any Alpha, though in Erik´s mind no more than a good meal or a pleasurable drink. It did not mean that they should be locked up by their mates or kept hidden away, never to be seen as not to lure an alpha into sin. After all, any alpha that put the fault of his or her own behavior on the way an omega smelled... in Erik´s eyes they were not fit to be called a true alpha. 

However Shaw did not share his sentiments. 

Since the new King of the South had taken the throne, he had changed many of the rules that used to apply to the co-habitation of the genders. Shaw had, with a cruel smile on his otherwise soft face, systematically forced omegas, who had lived relatively free before, into submission.

The rules had changed slowly, gradually, but nowadays in Genosha the weaker sex, as omegas were now called, belonged to their masters, the alphas. First to their fathers who then, once they became of an age to be bred, would marry them off to another alpha of their choosing, binding them into a life of further submission. An omega who went out into the open could only do so with the approval of their alpha and in company of either an alpha or a beta. Furthermore they had to wrap protective bindings around their omega glands and cover their entire bodies as not to lure any of their betters into a sexual frenzy.

In Erik´s mind, it was all bullshit. 

Well thought-out bullshit, but bullshit nonetheless.

On the Iron Isles Erik had kept to old traditions, where alpha and omega worked side-by-side, the only difference between the two being that one could carry children while the other could not. As long as a person was useful, Erik did not care how their glands smelled. If an omega went in heat, they were protected and could rest in inside or continue with their lives, as was their choosing. Any alpha who took an omega against their will was castrated without a trial. 

It was pure and simple. 

And yet, Erik had bowed to Shaw´s order when it came to his crusades, and aided him with his own small army of alphas, to fight against an innocent people because the man on the throne was an omega. He had watched, his face a emotionless mask, as their largest of their cities of the Horsemen was burned to the ground, as their young Lord was brought to his knees in front of the King of the South, to be enslaved as many of his people beside him. 

And he had been the one to restrain Xavier´s gift by wrapping metal around his head, forcing himself to watch as the young Lord had slipped onto his knees in front of Shaw, eyes wild and furious, begging for the safety of his people. 

The king had punished him then and there, and Erik could still hear the scream in his ears as Shaw had kicked Xavier to the ground and with little effort had broken his back by simply pushing him down into the dirt. 

Erik squeezed his eyes shut, digging his feet sharper into his steed´s side than he had intended. The beast whinnied and ran faster, ears plastered down against his skull. 

He grit his teeth and tried to chase away the memories that still haunted him. It had been over two years since he had joined Shaw to win his last war, since he had been allowed to go home and find his own life in ruins. 

He wondered what the fuck the King wanted from him now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter.  
> Also, have I mentioned that I have no beta?  
> I don´t, so please note that all mistakes are my own and also fuck grammar.  
> Kudos and comments are loved and much appreciated. 
> 
> You can find the chapter warning underneath. 
> 
>  
> 
> x

By the time they finally arrived at the castle they only had three days to spare to the deadline that Shaw had set Erik in his invitation. 

Erik and his men were too weary to voice their relief when they finally saw the high, white towers and golden domes of the capital far away in the distance, riding beside the road that was filled with peasants and merchants from all the different kingdoms. 

They passed the gate without any issues, the soldiers recognizing Erik and his company, looking only briefly at the kings letter before waving them through. 

Erik still knew the direction to the main castle, though he had forgotten how busy the lands in the South were, how noisy and bright. They pushed their horses through the crowds, past screaming merchants offering their goods, men and women in brightly colored, silken clothes that seemed indecent as they left little to the imagination. The wares that were offered was abundant, from exotic fruit to meats and fish, from livestock to clothes and tapestries, pottery and glassware, jewelry and colorful trinkets.   
They passed a slave market, Erik noting Logan´s hands tightening around his reigns, trying to shut out the loud voices as people bid for men and women that were bound to poles on platforms, some silent, other weeping or begging, each and every one of them unable to escape their fate. 

Finally they arrived the outskirts of the castle, Erik once more handing his letter to one of the soldiers guarding the gate, this time having to wait longer before they were finally allowed to pass. 

They dismounted close to the stables meant for visitors, Erik noting his own legs shaking slightly from the strain of having stayed in the saddle for the better part of six weeks. He rubbed the nose of his horse, hoping that the magnificent steed would not take damage from their hard ride. Shaw had given it to him when they had won the last war, a beautiful chestnut colored animal from the Horse Lands, a rare and pricey commodity. He had sired several foals already, and Erik hoped that he would be able sire many more.

Erik handed his reigns to one of the many stable lads, nodding at Logan who was unstrapping the saddle bags from his own horse. “Leave it be. The King has summoned me. Let us see what he wants.”

Logan´s face revealed nothing, he just nodded before turning to the other two soldiers. “Finish taking care of the horses. Then find out where our accommodations are, Might require beds in a tavern. We shall see you later.”Then he nodded at Erik. “Lead the way.”

Erik did.

He had spend two and a half years of his life in this wretched place, and even though some of the faces and fashions had changed, the castle itself had not. They climbed the marble staircase to the main palace step by step, Erik counting each of the 250 stairs in silence as his boots cracked onto the worn stone. 

At the entrance to the main palace Erik stated his name to one of the enormous palace guards, a dark-skinned alpha dressed in white and gold. The guard stared at them without looking at the letter, his eyes skimming over Erik´s and Logan´s worn clothes and sweaty faces, the old dirt that clung to their clothes and shoes. He plucked the royal invite from Erik with his face scrunched up in distaste,. “I am sure you wish to wash before you step before your majesty.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, but Erik shook his head. “The message said that I was to see the King urgently. We rode here as quickly as possible. I believe he would appreciate that I talk to him first, before taking the time to bathe.”

The soldier just nodded. “Wait here.” Then he disappeared with the letter into the darkness of the room behind them, leaving them with another three guards staring down at them. 

It took several minutes that they had to wait under the scorching sun before the guard finally returned. He was accompanied by a smart-dressed alpha, her beady eyes scanning their bodies with an air of disgust that Erik had known to expect. Still, anger flared up inside of him and he had to take a deep breath, and then another, never lowering his eyes from the scrutiny that he was put through. 

“Erik Lehnsherr?” The alpha sniffed, pulling at her glaringly red robes to make sure that they would not get into contact with the two dirty men in front of her.

“ _Lord_ Lehnsherr.” Erik sneered in return, knowing how much the Southerners were sticklers for etiquette and titles, unwilling to let the alpha get away with the slight of omitting his title. He might be a little rusty, but this was a game he could play, and he could play it _well_.

“Of course you are.” The large smile he received was false, the eyes once more scanning his simple, dirtied clothes. “If you will follow me.”

Erik said nothing, just gave a quick nod to Logan, then followed her as she turned sharply on her heel and headed into the palace. 

They walked for a long while, through cool, wide walkways that held small fountains and patches of flowers, past large windows that were covered in sheer silk. If they left a trail of patches of dried dirt on mosaic floors made of golds and precious stones, it was not something Erik would loose sleep over any time soon. 

They walked through several large rooms in which rich, fat alphas in fine, colorful robes were leaning on sofas and talking quietly to each other, holding golden goblets of wine and eating treats and delicacies from tabled fashioned from expensive wood. More or less naked slaves in golden chains fanned them with large feathered fans and hurried among the nobles to fill their cups and pass them more sugary treats that they swallowed down without seemingly a taste. 

Erik lowered his gaze as he passed them, anger bubbling up inside of him. 

The alphas of Genosha believed themselves to be superior to all else, but they had grown fat and sluggish under Shaw´s rule. They did little but talk, cladding themselves in their wealth and counting their coins, serviced by slaves they could pay if they had an inch of decency, while paid alpha guards from other nations watched over their harems of locked-away omegas.

They were a disgrace to any other alpha, as far as Erik was concerned. 

He flexed his hand and carefully rolled it into a fist. He secretly wished that he could face all of them in fights, watching as swords sharpened by his mind drove into their softened bodies, laughing as they fell, screaming like stuck pigs. It made him feel better and he raised his chin and walked faster, towards where he was going to meet Shaw. 

Several minutes later they finally stopped in front an enormous golden, double-breasted door.  
The alpha that had been leading them turned around, mouth curled downwards in distaste. “Wait here, please.”

Erik stared at her. “We have had a very long journey. How long are we to wait?”

She pulled her mouth into another wide, false smile. “The king is busy. He will attend to you as soon as he has time.” With those words she gave another nod and left. 

Erik turned towards Logan who was already rummaging through the many small bags that hung from his belt, pulling out one of his cigars with a look of triumph. He shrugged when Erik threw him a sharp glance. “Probably going to take a while”

He was right. 

It did. 

 

x

Several hours larer another large alpha guard wearing a golden armor approached them.   
Logan, who had been lounging on one of the many, silken sofas, slowly got on his feet. 

“King Shaw will see you now.” The guard said, his voice dark and raspy, as if someone had tried to cut his throat a long while back but did not fully succeed. “Just Lord Lehnsherr.” He stared at Logan, eyebrows drawn together. “Not you.”

Logan grinned, cracking his knuckles, a sharp, unsavory sound. “Fine with me.” He turned to Erik. “I will wait for you out here.”

“Sure.” Erik nodded at him, then turned towards the door to the throne room. A wave of old dread and bone-deep apprehension washed through him, and he took a deep breath as he fought the feelings down. He raised his eyebrows at the guard. “Well?”

The alpha said nothing else, just pushed against the large doors open with seemingly little effort.   
Maybe a mutant who was especially strong, Erik mused.   
He knew that Shaw had a taste for strong mutants and kept them as close as possible. 

Once the doors were open, Erik gave Logan another nod and then strode into the large throne room that was covered in gleaming white tiles and marble, enormous and almost empty, save for the large golden throne that stood in the middle, circles of white mosaic radiating outwards.

King Shaw was sitting on the throne that was set higher than its surrounding, talking to two alphas clad in dark, purple robes, their head bend in reference.   
Three more guards, these ones dressed as white as their surrounding stood beside and behind the throne, faces like masks, holding ceremonial spears in one hand, the other on the hilt of their large broad swords.   
Erik knew that the weapons were just for show, as he knew the soldiers themselves to be strong mutants, if not intelligent enough to be generals or men of otherwise higher significance. They were good at taking orders and at killing.

That was about it. 

Erik stopped several meters shy of the throne. While he should have been within earshot he could hear nothing, the silence almost deafening. Erik suspected that Shaw must have employed a new mutant since he had last been here, maybe one of the guards. Stifling sounds for no one to hear? Very useful in a place like Shaw´s palace that was crawling with spies from all nations. 

He kept playing with that thought and contemplating the advantages of such a power as he watched Shaw ignore him.

Finally the king waved away his visitors and Erik waited more or less patiently for them to leave.

Then Shaw´s dark blue eyes fell on him, mouth pulling into a smile as he beckoned Erik closer with his hand..  
Erik´s stomach flipped and yet he went, stopping at the stairs that led up to the throne. He went to his knees in a single, smooth motion, remembering the the protocol on how to talk to Shaw. He bowed his hands, his fingers touching the floor. “Your Majesty.” The words burned on his tongue like acid. 

“Erik. My dear boy.” Shaw spoke in a low drawl, in an almost dismissive manner.

A wave of disgust and reluctance went through Erik at the sound of that hated voice, hot and burning, but he fought it down and kept his eyes glued to the floor. “My King. You have summoned me.”

Shaw rose and slowly walked down the steps towards Erik. “That I have. Please, my boy, rise.” He stopped in front of Erik and waited for him to stand, then slowly raised his hand, fingers running over unshaven skin. Erik clenched his jaw at the unwanted touch, but did nothing else.   
He reminded himself that Shaw did not have the power he had once possessed over him.   
He was not a child anymore. 

He raised his eyes. 

Shaw studied him, the way a predator would his prey, and then his mouth pulled into a wide grin, showing too many teeth. “Ah, Erik. How long has it been? Two years? Far too long. And yet it feels like it was yesterday.”

Erik said nothing, simply continued to focus on the king. He knew that Shaw had always liked to hear himself talk , if little else. His own words were not required. 

Shaw smiled at him, fingers slowly rubbing over his cheek. “I must admit, I was a little worried that you would not make it in time. And I would have been rather... displeased with you.” The words were spoken in a low rasp, and Erik suppressed a shiver at the hardly concealed threat. He once more was glad that he had forced them to ride on, knowing that the deadlines that Shaw set were usually not a suggestion but an order.

He inclined his head. “I did my best, my king. When I received your call I left straight away.”

“Ah, yes. Such a happy occasion that you have come for.” 

Erik forced himself to keep his face a blank mask. He knew from the past that King Shaw´s festivities, whatever they might turn out to be, were never good for anyone but himself. Shaw had different ways to sate his sadism, and he liked to make a spectacle.

Erik swallowed down the lump of disgust that threatened to close off his throat, knowing that Shaw would wish for him to answer. “A happy occasion, my king?”

Shaw leaned in closer, and it took all of Erik´s willpower not to take a step back when fingers crept over his shoulders, like heavy spiders. “Tell me again, how old are you, son?”

Erik stayed still, did not allow the revulsion to show on his face. “Twenty-five this summer, my Lord.”

“Hmmm.” Shaw made a low sound in his throat. He was straightening the wrinkled fabric of Erik´s shirt, his eyes never leaving the younger mans face. “And how long have you been a widower for?”

Erik´s hands clenches reflectively at his sides. 

Images of Magda flashed in front of his eyes, drowning out all else.   
Pictures he usually managed to suppress: curls spilling over narrow shoulders, dark flashing eyes in a lovely face, her white teeth shining as she laughed out loud enough to be heard half way through the castle. 

Erik swallowed hard. 

Her face still haunted him in the darkest of nights, cold and still under his fingertips.   
She had been a stranger in her death, so quiet and peaceful.   
So very different from the live heat that she had always carried with her, like the volcano that she had born on.   
The night she had died had been a quiet one, so the sudden transition from her labored screams as she tried to push his child from her womb to the deadly silence when she slipped into the next world, taking their daughter with her, had been deafening. 

Erik dug his fingernails into his palm, the pain keeping him centered. 

Until that day Magda had been the stars in his skies and the heart in his chest. She had been the only thing that had brought him happiness and a small semblance of peace, and it all had been shattered in a single, cruel strike of destiny. It left Erik overflowing with the resentment and hate that she had always helped him keep under control, and while he brimmed with anger he was also left with a smoldering emptiness that nothing could fill. 

Erik avoided the kings eyes and instead stared straight ahead, his fists clenching in silent anger and despair. 

He reminded himself that Shaw had asked him a question.   
It would not do not to answer.   
He cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry.“I have been a widower for nearly two years. Sir.” 

One year, ten months, seventeen days. 

“Such a long time for a man in his prime to be alone.” Shaw tutted under his breath, blue eyes studying Erik as one would an insect. “I am told that your bed is still empty.”

“My Lord.” Erik grit out between his teeth, trying to keep the emotions from leaking into his voice, from staining it with his anger.   
Once more he was thankful for his years of rigorous training with Logan that helped him to hide his real feeling, as well as he could.

Shaw stared at him for another moment, then abruptly turned, climbing the stairs back to his throne. “You will be happy then to hear that someone at least is thinking about the continuation of your name. Twenty five and no heir, it is a travesty. This world is such a dangerous place. Who knows what might happen to you?” The king sat down slowly, a cruel smile on his lips. “Congratulations, Erik. You are getting married.”

“What?” Erik´s head snapped up, and for a moment he forgot his cool facade, his mouth slacking in surprise.

Shaw just watched him in silence, eyes glittering dangerously.

Erik tried to calm himself, his mind racing. 

What new, cruel game was this?  
Marriage?   
To whom?  
And to what ends?

He realized that Shaw was still staring at him and he straightened his spine, fear prickling under his skin. “My apologies, my Lord. But I am surprised by these... _good_ news.”

Another dark smile, this one even broader than his previous one. “Yes. They are good news indeed. You have mourned for long enough. Your gift is too precious to be lost. And the name Lehnsherr has to stay alive.” The king cocked his head, fingers entwining into each other. “Don´t you agree, my dear boy?”

“I...” Erik´s mind was racing. He wondered if there was a way for him to get out of this, how to prevent himself from being married to an omega of Shaws choosing.   
He did not wish for an enemy in his castle, let alone in his bed. 

And Magda – he had not yet stopped mourning. 

But there was something else to consider.  
His long-term plans, of one day toppling the king and freeing Genosha and all the other kingdoms of the plague that was Shaw.  
So he would have to play along.   
Do as he was told.   
He did not need the king to be even more weary than he already was. 

And the cause... it was much bigger than himself. 

Erik swallowed drily. Shaw was watching him closely, like a cat would a mouse. “I understand, Sir.” Erik felt numb with the surprise, his thoughts racing through the possibilities of how this could work for Shaw, how it would bind him even closer to the king. “But...”

Shaw waved away his words as one would a fly. “No, my dear boy,” He leaned back on this throne, looking smug. “No more excuses. You have mourned long enough. And your gift is too precious to loose for all future generations just because you are still weeping for a peasant omega that warmed your cock for a couple of years.”

A flash went through Erik and he growled under his breath.

How dare he.   
How dare he speak in such a manner of the love of his life, how dare...

Shaw had risen from his throne, staring down at him. 

It took Erik a heartbeat to realize what he had done.

His first instinct was to fall to his knees, to beg for forgiveness.   
But he was not twelve, not anymore. 

So he stayed standing, blood draining from is face, simply staring at the king who was staring right back at him.

When Shaw finally spoke his voice was dangerously low. “Erik. Growling? Really?” He leaned closer, eyes sparking dangerously. “Do you know what I could do to you to show this kind of dominating behavior to your king?”

Erik took a deep breath.   
He felt his chest constricting, cool sweat popping out over his brows. For just a moment he had let his guard down, and it might cost him and his people everything that he had worked for in the last couple of years. 

_Submit._ A low voice whispered inside of his head. So he lowered his head and turned his chin slightly to the side, revealing his neck. “My sincere apologies, my Lord.” He took another deep breath. “It will not happen again.”

“I would hope not.” Shaw stared at him for a moment longer, letting Erik stew in the worry that he could be taken away by the burly guards still beside the throne, to be thrown into prison for showing disobedience to the king. 

He had seen it happen before. 

But then Shaw shifted, voice smooth and silky once more. “You have always been such a hothead. At least nothing has changed in that regard. ” Shaw raised his hand. “You are to be wed in three days time, when the moon is at its fullest.” He sat back down, waving him away. “Now – Leave.”

There was a sound behind them and Erik realized that one of the servants had opened the door. 

“My lord, whom...?” Erik stood his ground, his hands fisted by his side. 

Shaw leaned in, face stern. “Don´t push your luck, my dear boy. I forgave you one slight already today. Do not stretch my patience.” 

Erik nodded and bowed, feeling numb. Then he turned on his heels and left the throne room. 

Logan was standing outside, eyebrows raised questioningly. 

Erik just shook his head as he continued to walk, waiting for the Wolverine to match his fast step. He felt empty and hollow, old fear and anger burning in his guts. “We shall speak of it later.”

Logan said nothing, but followed him closely. 

 

x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Death of a loved one, mention of still-birth. Also super creepy Shaw.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all
> 
> Sorry for taking so long with the updates, I will do my best to get you something every 2 weeks or so. I do not have a beta-reader, so all mistakes are my own.  
> Also please note that I only know the world of the X-men from the films, and the names I am using are ones I plucked from the internet – if I am grossly misusing the lore – sorry but not sorry.   
> Yeah. 
> 
> Thank you to all leaving comments, you make my world go round.   
> Also thanks to all who bookmark and leave kudos.
> 
>  
> 
> x

The next three days flew by. 

Erik and his small group of men had been led to their quarters in the lower parts of the vast castle complex, towards the outskirts, cool and with a pleasant view of the valleys beneath them. 

Before they took the time to settle Erik nodded towards his men, who had refrained asking questions to this point. They all remembered what they had discussed prior to arriving in the capital of Genosha - that the likelihood of them being listened to and spied upon, no matter where they talked, was high. Everyone knew that Shaw had his eyes and ears everywhere – Genosha was a poisoned pool where no one was safe and ones words could always be used against them. 

Everyone that lived here knew that.  
And that held ever more true in the castle of the king. 

Erik did not waste their time by asking them to sit once they arrived in their shared rooms, he simply gathered Logan and his two soldiers around. “The reason why I have been summoned to this castle...” He kept his face blank as he looked over his men, their dirty, sweaty faces and dusty clothes. His voice was calm and even. “King Shaw has deemed that my mourning period has lasted long enough. I am to be wed in three days.”

For a moment no one said anything.   
Eyebrows were raised and looks exchanged, but only Logan broke the silence, grumbling under his breath. “Why?”

Erik rubbed his hand over his face, “Apparently I require an heir. And soon.”

Logan made a low, rumbling noise, pushing his cigar from one corner of his mouth into the other.

One of the soldiers spoke, a grim-looking woman who went by the name Magik. “What do we do?”

Erik´s mouth thinned. He was tired, he needed to bathe and to eat. The surprise of Shaw´s proposal, no _order_ , still had not settled, and he did not yet know how to go from here. So he shook his head, letting his eyes roam over his companions. “I don´t know. At this point I don´t think there is anything we can do. “   
He did not say what they all knew – if Erik left, it would be an open show of disobedience.   
And that would, in all likelihood, mean war.   
Erik took a deep breath, his eyes flicking over to Logan. “So it seems that I have no other choice.”

Logan nodded slowly. His eyebrows had knitted and the expression on his face was thunderous, but he said nothing else.

The other of the two soldiers, a tall, broad man called Bishop, his skin as dark as the volcano he was born on, cracked his knuckles, face grim. “Three days? That does not give us a lot of time.”

Erik shook his head. “No. It does not.” He had drawn three small, round metal spheres from a bag by his leg, lost in thought starting to rotate them in the air with his power, hovering just on top of his palm. 

Logan had finally taken the cigar from his mouth, glowering. “So who is the lucky bride?”

Erik shrugged. The spheres continued to rotate, slowly, constantly. “Shaw did not deem it necessary to tell me.” 

Logan just snorted. “Ok. Could be anything then. Man, woman, alpha, beta or omega, child or elder.” He looked at them, his dark eyes burning. “We will have to make sure that we are prepared. There could be an attack. From anyone or anywhere. Probably during the ceremony.” He raised his eyebrow at Erik, mouth pulling into a humorless grin. “Maybe in your bed.”

Erik nodded, voice cool. “Yes. I am aware of that possibility.” He sighed again. “We will need to make a plan. But I suggest we bathe and eat first, and then rest.” His eyes slid over his men. “We have three days.”

Everyone nodded and then slowly made their ways into the washing rooms. 

They had three days.

A world of time  
And nothing at all. 

 

x

 

The next day, just after sunrise, Erik had called everyone together and they had sat down on the lavish sofas around a narrow table, eyebrows furrowed as they stared down at the plans they had started to make. They wrote down any ideas that they had, to refrain from talking, but without the knowledge of where the wedding would take place, without a layout or knowing how many people would attend, it was hard to prepare. 

After just an hour Erik had looked up, fingers running over the last piece of paper that they had scribbled on. “We are going to have to improvise.”

Logan nodded at that. “We will. Might have a chance. Might not. Depends on how many soldiers Shaw has gathered, pretending them to be wedding guests.”

Erik took a sip of the water that stood in front of him. The weather, it was too warm. He shuffled the pieces of paper that they had written upon, pushing them around. “Yes. It also depends on what Shaw wishes to do to us. He could make a spectacle out of it. Capture and torture us in front of a crowd. He might do it privately instead.”

Logan´s mouth broadened into a grin. “Yes. He could. He might also throw a big party for you and marry you to a sweet little omega, making sure that you will have an heir.”

Erik glowered at him, opened his mouth to answer when there was a knock at the door. 

For a moment there was a tense silence before Erik slowly rose, raising his chin. “Yes?”

The door swung open without a moment of delay, and a large beta entered the suite, clad in precious finery, followed by a young boy. Her voice was dark and scratchy, her very pale green eyes flicking around the room before they took in Erik´s body, seemingly measuring it with her eyes. “Lord Lehnsherr, I presume? I have come to discuss your bridal suit with you.”

Erik´s mouth thinned.   
Memories of his life in the palace of Genosha flicked through his mind, when he had lived here as a boy, how often he had been fit for new, lavish clothes to be able to fit in with the other children.   
His first impulse was to sneer and decline, to send her away, but he was aware that the clothes he had brought were a poor fit for any type of ceremonial event, especially a wedding.

And, again, turning the offer down could be seen as open resistance against the wishes of the king.   
He blew out air from his nose, nodding tensely. 

So new clothes it was. 

He stepped up to the beta, his face unreadable. “Just keep it as simple as possible.”

The woman sniffed, her fingers curling around a thin piece of measuring rope. “There are of course traditions that need to be followed. I shall take your measurements. And you should have a look at the colors that are available.” She pulled a thick pad of fabrics from one of her many pockets, holding it into the air. “Alpha´s traditionally wear red, but we should look what will best suit you. And I need to know if you prefer silk, velvet, fine cotton or linen.”

Erik sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He knew that the Southern Alphas loved to hang themselves in the finest of cloths for their wedding, their outfits the color of blood, encrusted with precious jewels and gems, to show their riches and their potency to everyone around them. Erik slowly lowered his hand and raised his head, smile fake as he stared at the seamstress. “Please take your measurements. As for the cloth, cotton will do. And I am sure that you will choose the best color for me, something subtle is good enough for a man of my standing. “

The words had eased the ruffled feathers of the Master of Needles, for she looked less angered than she had before. “Of course. Now if you would please take off your coat and spread your arms.”

Erik shot a glance at Logan and his soldiers, and they carefully shuffled the papers so that they were covered, rose to take care of errands that they had discussed beforehand. 

Logan stayed, leaned back and watched but said nothing else. 

 

x

 

The next two days were spend with working out plans for different scenarios, while Erik grew more and more calm. 

He always did before a battle. 

He knew something was coming, something that Shaw would likely want to use to destroy him, but he just and simply did not know what. For Shaw was a master of many intrigues. He was known to punish his subjects in a lavish display of sadism but just as well could plan to bring them down over many years.

The point that Erik was not his subject but a lord of his own, small kingdom did not matter in this case. 

Shaw wished to rule over the entire world, he had made as much clear in the past. 

 

x

 

On the morning of his wedding Erik was awake before the sun had risen, taking the time to sit by the window and meditate. His three metal spheres were orbiting around his body while he sat with his eyes closed, clearing his mind of negative thoughts, trying to quell the volcano of anger that was bubbling underneath the surface.

Logan answered the door when someone knocked. 

“Lord Lehnsherr. Your clothes are ready.”

The Master of Needles had send two of her apprentices who waited patiently as Erik rose and quietly undressed himself down to his underclothes, helping him into the complicated ceremonial garb. The many pieces of clothing were all held in a dark, deep red, the color of burning coals.   
The wide, loose pants went all the way down to the soft leather boots, and were laced tight around his body in a complicated matter that made Erik wonder if he would ever able to unfasten them himself or if he would have to cut them open when he wished to undress again. The shirt was a tad darker, the long sleeves again fastened in a complicated manner of ribbons cris-crossing over his arms. It lay snug against his lean body, a complicated pattern made with stitches from silver thread curled over his entire torso and back, a nod to his powers. 

The apprentices carefully wrapped a dark red, broad silk band around his neck covering his pheromone glands, then closed the wide standing collar over it, fastening it in the front with a single button made from mother of pearl. 

Last but not least he was given a light cape that even Erik had to admit was a piece of mastery. The length of it was covered in flames, starting from dark, almost charcoal red on the bottom and licking their way along his back all the way up to his neck where the color almost matched his hair, a dark auburn orange, organically integrating his person into the clothing. The cape was the main part of all wedding clothes, for it was usually representative of the Alpha, using symbolism to speak of his standing. His was a nod to him as Lord of the Iron Isles that were riddled with volcanoes, from which the legends said the Lehnsherrs apparently had received their powers from many a moons ago. 

When they were done the betas bowed and filed out of the room, leaving Erik and Logan alone.

Logan slowly rose and stepped up, looking him up and down, then gave a sharp whistle between his teeth. “Damn, Lehnsherr. Almost wish I could marry you myself.” He grinned broadly at the thunderous expression on Erik´s face. “But then I would have to put up with your moods, and I would rather not.” He ducked when Erik snarled and used his power to hurl pieces of metal at him, hissing when a small dagger from near the sofa cut deeply into his arm, a small stream of blood immediately snaking down his arm. “All right, all right. No need to get your manly Alpha pants into a twist. My Lord.” He wiped at the blood while the wound already started to close. 

“Get ready. We have to leave by noon.” Erik drawled. He pulled his metal spheres to himself and melted them down, attaching them as a fine layer to the inside of his clothing.   
Weapons were not allowed at a wedding, but he knew how to hide metal on his body without anybody noticing and he now had enough on him so he could pull a small dagger to his fingers or have an array of tiny metal bullets he could fling at charging enemies within seconds if required. 

Logan grunted. “Will get changed myself then.” The cut was now gone, just the blood drying on his skin a testament that it had ever been there. 

“Might want to wash as well.” Erik nodded at it while pulling at his clothes.

Logan shot him an amused glance. “Yes, my Lord. I will make sure to smell like a field of roses for your special day.” He bowed and left before Erik could hurl another knife at him. 

Erik took another deep breath before he sat down once more, closing his eyes. 

His inner volcano turned white-hot, turning him unnaturally calm before erupting.   
He felt like he was reading for a battle.

Who knew what awaited him once they stepped out of his rooms. 

 

x

 

At noon, as always, the large, heavy bells that were hung in the main square of the capital started to ring, dark and ominous. 

Erik listened to them, quietly counting down the strokes. When they reached nine there was a knock on the door. 

Erik stood and looked over at his companions, all of them dressed in shades of white as was custom for wedding guests, and they stared back at him, faces and back tense. The belts at their sides were bare, for no weapons would be allowed at the wedding, but none of the party needed to carry a sword to fight. Erik had chosen wisely when he had taken mutants with powers along that would help them fight using nothing but their own bodies. 

There was another knock and Logan shot Erik a glance. “Are you ready?” He rumbled. 

“No.” Erik said quietly, eyes focused on the door. “But let´s get this over with anyway.”

Logan nodded, his dark eyes glittering with something that he did not say out loud.   
Then he strode through the room, opening the door for the soldiers waiting at the other side. The castle guards stared at them. “Lord Lehnsherr. Are you ready”

Erik said nothing, just stepped out into the hallway. 

Then they started to walk. 

They were led through vast parts of the castle, two of the king´s guards dressed in pure white flanking him, as if they were worried that he might change his mind last minute and try to run after all.   
Finally they reached the large gardens the enormous castle grounds, the ones that led to the cliffs above the calm, clear Southern ocean. 

When they stepped out of the cool hallways into the hot rays of the bright sun standing high above them, Erik raised his eyes. 

In front of them, on top of a small hill stood a large white tent made from white linen, its sides open to leave in air. Underneath it were an array of low tables surrounded by thick, white pillows on which guests were already lounging. Slaves dressed in nothing but small loincloths were walking among them, handing out food and drinks, others standing in the corners holding large fans made from feathers white as freshly fallen snow slowly raising and lowering them to circulate the hot air and bring some much needed relief. 

It looked like the party was already well on its way. 

Hundreds of high-ranking Alphas were standing and sitting across the gardens, some underneath small white umbrellas held by nearly naked slaves at their sides, other walking and talking, holding golden cups and sipping on what must be light, sweet wine. Beta dancers in clothing that left little to the imagination twirled between the guests, some hanging in trees from long, silken ropes, acrobats, jugglers and clowns entertaining the crowd. 

“Looks like Shaw has spared no expenses.” Logan grumbled under his breath. 

Erik said nothing, his eyes roaming, taking in any potential threats, exits, best places to fight if necessary. 

He saw several more, smaller tents around them, very few guards standing almost out of view, their white armor gleaming in the sun. He turned around and gave a small nod, and Magik and Bishop left their little group and split up to roam the festivities, keeping an eye out for potential threats. 

They walked up the hill, past guests who were staring at them, now whispering among each other when they saw the only Alpha dressed in red in their midst, clearly marking him as the groom. 

When they entered the large tent, King Shaw rose from one of the many pillows, mouth pulling into a wide grin. “Erik! My boy!” Logan stepped to the sidelines and watched as the king stepped up to Erik, his arms raised, white silk of his long robe whispering over the floor. 

“My king.” Erik lowered his head, as if in reference.

“What a wonderful day for a wedding, don´t you think?” Shaw clasped his shoulder and Erik forced himself not to flinch at the too-tight grasp of a mutant who had too much power. 

“Yes, my king.”

Shaw laughed out loud, not letting go of his hold, fingers squeezing tighter, as if to test Erik and his ability to hold still. “It will be a wonderful ceremony. And I am sure that you will approve of the bride I picked for you.”

Bride. Erik focused on the word as the pain continued to blossom under Shaw´s fingers, spreading through him. He latched on to the word to distract himself. Bride. Did that mean a woman? An omega hopefully. Not that Erik cared to much. He lowered his head, tilting it slightly to the side to show obedience he did not feel. “I am sure that your majesties taste is impeccable.”

Shaw laughed and nodded, gave him one last, painful squeeze before he finally, _finally_ let him go.

Erik let out a soft breath, suppressing the impulse to reach up and rub at his aching flesh where he could already feel bruises blooming under his clothes, knowing that it would be seen as a weakness. 

Shaw studied as one one would an insect. When Erik said nothing his eyes darkened. “Well then. Drink and be marry. You will be married at dusk.”

Erik nodded, and watched the king walk away. 

Logan stepped to his side. “And?”

“Nothing. The wedding will be when the sun sets.”

Logan nodded, pulling out another one of his stinking cigars. “All right then. A drink?”

Erik sighed. “Might as well.”

 

x

 

The wedding festivities were lavish and long, and Erik absolutely loathed them. 

Logan stayed at his side as Erik slowly but surely became the center of attention of the entire crowd of high-ranking alphas that had attended the wedding of a Lord that most of them had never spoken to, let alone met. Erik stood out in his red attire, colors meant to highlight his standing and his disposition mainly as the alpha groom, while the guests were all dressed in white, a sea of faceless men and women that flocked to him like flies to dead meat. Erik kept his features blank as he continued to shake the hands of a seemingly never-ending parade of alphas, their beady eyes and false smiles plastered over their faces as their eyes raked over his body, calculating how much he might be worth and how they could find financial gain from the Lord of the Iron Isles in the future. 

Erik noted that there were no omegas in the crowd of guests, apart from every now and then a rare, heavily veiled creature walking at the just outside the gardens, surrounded by chaperons or bodyguards. He guessed that they probably were the wife or husband of one of the more influential alpha's in the crowd, someone who came along to be introduced or to be shown off, just to leave soon after to probably attend their own, smaller festivities, securely kept behind thick walls far away from any alpha to look upon them. 

Towards the afternoon Erik sat down under underneath a paladin made of white linen, drinking clear water while waving away the treats that slaves continued to offer to him. Logan sat at his side, continuously smoking one fat cigar after the other, quietly staking out their surroundings. 

Every now and then they could see Magik and Bishop in the crowd offering them a quick nod before they disappeared again. Clearly they so far they could pick out no immediate danger.  
At least not yet. 

Then, much faster than Erik would have liked, the sun started to set. 

Erik had been expecting them, and he had immediately picked out the four priests clad in silken turquoise robes wearing white masks as they stepped out of the castle. He watched them as they walk towards him, the murmuring around them dying down as others also picked up the priests approaching, their low chanting soon the only thing that could be heard.  
Erik stood when they reached him, staring at the blank masks in front of him. “Lord Lehnsherr.” One of the faceless priests spoke to him, voice muffled. “It is time to be wed.”

Erik nodded. His hands were clammy and he could feel his heart laboring in his chest, but he would not allow his face or body to show the battle that was raging inside of him. Instead he stepped between the priests in silence and walked with them towards the cliffs. They made their way through the gardens until they reached a narrow pathway, boots crunching on white pebbles that led down to a platform that overlooked the ocean. 

He was led to a small marble altar that was lavishly decorated, the crowd of weddings guests gathering behind him, chattering quietly.

The main priest, recognizable by the heavily bejeweled mask he wore, chanted under his breath, lighting fires in fire pits simply by pointing at them, flames sparking from his fingers. 

What a wonderful mutation. Erik thought absentmindedly, for a moment reveling in the beauty of the power.

Then the buzzing of the crowd behind him became louder and he turned.

Two priests were making their way down the narrow pathway, a heavily veiled creature between them, clad from head to foot in light pink silken materials, enough layers that nothing could be seen underneath. 

Erik swallowed hard as he watched them coming closer, noting that he could tell nothing from his bride but his or her height, the face hidden behind a tight mesh that was held in place by pearled pins, fingers vanishing underneath overlong sleeves.

So Erik waited as the omega was led to his side where one of the priests placed a thick pillow and made him or her kneel at their new alpha´s feet. Erik looked down at the pile of pink material, his stomach churning as he was once more reminded of the farce of it all, unwillingly pulled into the memory of the last time he had been wed. 

Then Magda had walked towards him by herself, her head thrown back proudly and she had stood in front of him as they had held hands, face to face, as equals. Her voice had been strong and proud as she answered her vows, and he remembered his chest filling with happiness as they had faced a cheering crowd, for once in his life at peace with his lot. 

There was nothing of this here. 

Just him and and an omega who had no choice, who was bartered away like livestock to bow their head under a new yoke. 

It made Erik sick to his stomach. 

One of the priests took his hand and placed it on the omega´s head, the silk slightly rough under his fingers.

They waited in silence as the moon rose from the horizon, large and white, full as the belly of a pregnant omega. 

Once it was fully visible the ceremony began. 

The priests started speaking all at once, their voices monotone behind the masks, their fingers weaving colored bands into each other as they spoke old, ritualistic words that Erik did not listen to.  
They droned on for what felt like an eternity, and then the main priest suddenly stepped forward, placing his large hands on top of where Erik´s rested on the head of the omega. “Will you, Erik Lehnsherr, Lord of the Iron Isles, take this omega and protect him from all suffering, feed him and clothe him and do everything in your ability to make his life long and fruitful? Will you protect him at all costs and ensure that no other Alpha may take him, so that the Gods may smile upon you both?”

Him. So his omega was a male.

Erik swallowed before he spoke, his voice loud and clear. “Yes. I shall protect him with my life and my honor. What is mine is his, as long as we both live.”

The priest let go and stepped to Erik´s side, the faceless mask staring at him. “Then claim him as yours, with your scent and your property.” 

Erik nodded and raised his hands, opening the button on his collar. He unfastened the broad silk band that had been around his neck all day, now saturated with his Alpha scent. Without another word he passed it to the priest who took it into his gloved hands, stepping up behind the omega. With a quick motion he wrapped the piece of cloth around where the omega´s nose must be, tieing it in the back with a loose bow. “Take in the scent of your new master, so that you may bear him his children and serve him until the day that you die.”  
He reached to where a row of small buttons were leading down on the back of the omega´s headscarf, opening them before he reached in, pulling out a similar broad piece of silk, this one light pink in color. 

The priest closed the buttons before he walked back to Erik, stopping in front of him. 

He raised the piece of silk, and Erik forced himself not to flinch away as it was wrapped around his own mouth and nose, the sweet smell of omega immediately filling his nostrils. “Take in the scent of your omega, so that you may breed him and protect him until the end of his days.”

Erik suppressed the impulse to pull the cloth away from his face and instead forced himself to stand still as his hand was once more placed on the top of the kneeling omega´s head. 

The priest stepped back to the altar, raising his hands. “Erik Lehnsherr, you now wear the scent of your omega and he yours. May your loins be fruitful and may your gifts be passed on to the next generations. You are now wed.”

A loud cheer went through the crowd, people that Erik did not know celebrating his marriage to an omega he likely had never seen before, one that might be trained to kill him the moment he entered his bed. Either way, he was now his and he could do with him as he saw fit. 

It made Erik shudder with unease. 

Then two priests stepped towards the omega and helped him to his feet, leading him away. 

Erik watched as they left, then a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to face Shaw grinning at him. “What a wonderful ceremony. Here, my boy, drink.” A large goblet of what looked like heavy wine was pressed into his hands and he hesitated only for a moment before he pushed the silk away from his mouth and took a drink as was expected of him. 

Strangers flocked around him, slapped him on his shoulders and shouted well-wishes in his ear as Erik continued to stare at Shaw. The king took back the wine and raised his hand and snapped a finger, and from seemingly nowhere music suddenly started to play, acrobats hanging from the trees, fire blowers lighting the darkness. 

“Come, my boy.” Erik loathed Shaw all of the sudden, almost more than he could bear for making him go through with this farce of a marriage. Instead he followed the heavy hand on his shoulder, knowing he could not push it away without offending. Shaw grinned, teeth sparkling in the firelight. “First we celebrate. Then you can go seal your bond.”


End file.
